CHAPTER FOUR
Elaina was lying stiffly beneath the covers, her eyes tracing the dim outlines of the unfamiliar room. Every sound set her nerves alight: the creak of settling wood, a distant laugh below, the muffled thud of footsteps on the stairs. Each noise carried the echo of danger, of hands closing around her arm, of a blade at her throat.
She turned onto her side, then onto her back again, her heart refusing to slow.
Ye are safe,she told herself firmly.Fer taenight, at least.
Still, her body did not believe it. After what felt like hours, she slipped from the bed and crossed the room quietly, careful not to disturb anything that might betray her movement. She reached for the door and eased it open, intending only to listen. She needed to reassure herself that the corridor was empty and that nothing waited for her beyond the threshold.
But what she found there surprised her.
The laird was settled in the chair directly before her door. His long legs were stretched out, and his head was tilted slightly to one side. His eyes were closed and his posture was relaxed enough that, at first glance, he looked to be asleep.
Warmth spread through her chest before she could stop it.
She hesitated, then began to withdraw, stepping back as quietly as she had come, not wishing to wake him. But she had scarcely shifted her weight when his eyes opened.
“Elaina?” he asked softly. “Are ye all right?”
She froze. For a heartbeat, she considered telling him everything about her father, Lachlan, the marriage she fled and the certainty that danger would follow her wherever she went. The truth pressed hard against her lips, aching to be spoken.
Then reason returned. He was still a stranger. A kind one, perhaps, and honorable, but still a man she had known less than a day. Trust, she reminded herself, was not given freely. It was earned.
“I’m just… restless,” she said at last.
Duncan straightened slightly, concern evident even in the low light. “That is nae surprising, after taenight.” His voice was calm.“But ye are safe. There is naething tae fear here. Ye can sleep soundly.”
She smiled faintly, though the tension in her chest remained. “That is easier said than done.”
His mouth curved in understanding. “Aye,” he agreed quietly. “I’ve nae been sleeping much either.”
She glanced down the corridor at the chair beneath him, then back at his face. “Nae wonder,” she replied, a hint of teasing slipping into her voice. “When ye’re trying tae sleep in a chair.”
He shrugged easily. “It’s warmer than the stables. And besides,” he added, as if it were the most sensible thing in the world, “I’m closer tae ye here.”
Her brows lifted. “Taeme?”
He met her gaze unflustered. “Tae protect ye.”
The warmth in her chest deepened, unsettling in its suddenness. Before she could overthink it, the words escaped her.
“Then ye’d best protect me from inside me room.”
The suggestion was charged. Even more, it was dangerous.
“That may be true,” he said slowly. “But are ye certain?”
She tilted her head, feigning innocence she did not entirely feel. “Why would I nae be?”
He let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh if it had carried any humor. “Because,” he said mildly, “I have a reputation tae keep. I cannae simply sleep in the same room as a lady and pretend it means naething.”
Her lips curved, amusement brightening her eyes despite the hour. “Oh, stop being silly.”
“Silly?” he echoed, looking amused.
“Aye,” she said, warmth threading her voice now. “After all that talk of honor and reputation, ye’re still guarding a door in a corridor. If anyone were inclined tae talk, they already would.”
He hesitated, clearly weighing sense against something far less orderly.
